上架台北.考現學:陸先銘的陸上觀察學

文/龔卓軍 (國立台南藝術大學藝術創作理論研究所專任副教授,本展台南場學術主持)

我們試著靜靜站在當時東京的土壤上,同時我們也感受到有太多在此發生的事物值得凝視關注。我們、至少我自己勉強當個油漆工維生,也做些小型調查,每天徘徊在這焦土之上。也正是在這時期,我開始感受到將眼中所見所聞記錄下來的喜悅。       ──今和次郎,〈何謂考現學〉,1928年2月

會用「考現學」這樣的名字來思考陸先銘的藝術,純粹是因為我對「考現學」的理解,既是一門「都會路上的徘徊觀察學」,也是一門「焦土陸上探頭的新芽學」,而這正是我對陸先銘繪畫與裝置的感受。「考現學」這個說法,與都市建築和空間的關係很深,來自1920年代急遽現代化、1923年關東大地震災後急速重建的日本,從今和次郎脫胎自柳田國男的民俗學調查建立「考現學」之後,一路發展至赤瀨川原平、南伸坊、藤森照信的都會路上觀察學,都與美術上的反叛精神有關。

就美術與文化史的脈絡而言,今和次郎畢業於1912年的東京美術學校圖案科,而後進入早稻田大學建築系教學,之後成為該校教授,依據藤森照信在他所編的《考現學入門》中〈解說:正確的考現學〉一文中對今和次郎的描述,「他很擅長發現、撿拾別人忽略錯過的東西」,長大之後,他開始「撿拾」茅草屋頂的民宅樣式,以至於加入了柳田國男主持的「白茅會」,統整出《日本民宅》這樣的圖集與分析,最後,在1923年關東大地震前後,今和次郎對於柳田國男朝向過去的民俗學方法開始存疑,把箭頭指向當下的現代都會路上觀察物件、人物情態等經驗,最終成立了「考現學」這門較偏向文化社會學方法的工作。

考現學在今和次郎的創設下,可以簡單歸納出三個美學或感覺學的特點:首先,考現學反叛主流文化的姿態是很明顯的,對於大東亞戰爭、對於主流歌頌高層歷史人物的英雄化敘事,可以從今和次郎的字裡行間,聞見其厭惡之氣。其次,考現學對於學院知識系統脫離民間社會、遠離庶民生活相當不耐,使得今和次郎寧願把心思花在鄉下小溫泉區,蒐集戶戶不同的精緻馬口鐵煤氣燈罩的造形變化樣式上,換言之,被近代美術界排擠的奇怪素材,在考現學的眼光下,卻是德國表現主義電影《卡里加利博士的小屋》中表現主義的裝飾象徵,同時,也象徵了考現學對於庶民工藝在集雨管、煤氣燈、街頭看板的興趣,遠大於以歐美美術史為核心的圖象脈絡。1923年8月,關東大地震前夕發表的〈馬口鐵工的工作〉一文,幾乎就是考現學的宣言。第三,在關東大地震之後,東京幾乎化為一片焦土,今和次郎在此卻注意到了「災後焦土上以白鐵、木棒、木樁和破碎板材搭建起來的臨時住宅,從中發現了都會人堅韌的生命力以及巧妙的造形趣味。尤其是吊掛、豎立在臨時住宅各處的招牌,更是像從焦土灰燼中冒出新芽的嫩葉一般新鮮。」[1]因此,都會大道上的災後景象,以及很快如雨後春筍出現的市招樣式,才是考現學的起點。這種態度,正是讓藤森照信等人發展出「路上觀察學」,以抗拒「考現學」這個概念後來變成現代都會消費商品代言符號的潮流。

李維菁曾經這樣描述過陸先銘的台北「陸上觀察學」:「為了生活常騎著機車在台北街頭奔波的陸先銘說,民國七十八、九年的時候,在路上不太會見到賓士車。但是在九○年代初期,忽然覺得路上一下子冒出大量的賓士,每個經過的地方,都有陸橋、房子等等各式各樣的建築在興建中,到處都是敲敲打打乒乒乓乓的聲音。在路上跑,一下子發現這個都市變化得好快。陸先銘想要紀錄這些親身目睹的變化。到環快、高架橋、濱江街還有新生高架橋等等工地拍照參考,在畫面中重新建構這些建築中的不同角度。『我的心是被撞擊的,只想趕緊將這些變化畫下來。』」[2]對比悍圖社幾位藝術健將的發展來看,諸如楊茂林、吳天章,在解嚴後的1990年代,出現了許多政治衝撞、歷史反思、本土符號和斷裂的修辭術[3]

與此潮流悖反,陸先銘的繪畫母題和語彙卻以冷靜理性的姿態,不直接涉入「台灣藝術主體性」的爭論,也不以斷裂的修辭裝置來進行政治衝撞、歷史反思、本土符號的解構與重構,而以1980年代末期全面工地化的台北都會「上架」空間為母題──上捷運陸架、上環快高架、上汐五高架、上大樓鷹架,給予當代架上畫一個新的矛盾上架修辭法。這個矛盾的框架修辭術,不僅如馬內一般將繪畫的框架、畫布本身予以問題化,將框架與畫布材質變成表現的素材,甚至進一步將畫外的都會交通系統上架時所運用的框架鋼材特質,轉化為畫布周邊的框架本身。這種對於台北都會現代化過程中的細心觀察和繪畫提取,其實充滿了熱血的衝撞精神,至少,對於傳統的架上畫,這是一個強而有力的絕決回應。

從考現學的觀點來看上架中的台北,經常是喜歡談論「解嚴台北」人士們忽略的一個問題。然而,這個交通黑暗期的經驗場域,卻縈繞著一兩代台北人和在台北工作讀書的外地人的記憶。1992年蔡明亮導演的《青少年哪吒》中的台北街頭、1994年《愛情萬歲》中大安森林公園的工地景象,陳昭榮與小康不時在台北路上經過的工地景象,其實只是1990年代上架中的台北中的一小塊切片。讓我們來看看,陸先銘在他的1990年代台北機車人生中,看到了什麼樣的現代台北。1988年7月,臺北捷運北投機廠正式舉行開工典禮,木柵線、淡水線、新店線、板橋線、南港線、中和線六條線同時動工,當時稱為「六線齊發」,該台北縣市許多主要幹道,如忠孝東路、復興南路、公園路、羅斯福路、和平東西路、板橋文化路皆進入交通黑暗期,一直要到1996至2000年,初期路網完工,全長涵蓋68公里的工程圍籬一一拆除清空,完整的路面才得以呈現。如果我們再考量臺北捷運的擴建與二期路網工程,一直要到2012年內湖線、新蘆線漸次完工整併路線為止,其路網擴增至75.8公里。

同一個時期,汐五高架道路工程,也就是民間所謂的「十八標」工程,從1991年開工,至1997年全線通車,總長20.3公里,經過內湖、堤頂舊宗路、下塔悠濱江街、環北快速道等交通繁忙路網匝道,均為雙向四道或六道的高架道路。緊接著,1998年6月,新北環河快速道路動工,緊鄰淡水河、新店溪西側而建,經過二重疏洪道的新北大橋,加上重翠大橋,把三重、板橋聯繫起來,然後再通向中和、永和、新店等台北都會衛星區域,全長21.8公里,完全於2013年1月。我們需要想像的是,年輕的陸先銘,先是從當時尚在開發中的信義計畫區,經常騎車過永福橋或福和橋,到復興商工教書教了好幾年;然後,在1990年代初期,與吳天章曾經在中和租了一個工作室,以此為基地,往返於台北縣市之間、中正橋的兩端。這些大工地雖然不能類比關東大地震之後的都會災難現場,但是,當時台北做為一個眾多巨大系統建設工程大工地,卻在電影、劇場(譬如1993年新版的《那一夜,我們說相聲》)的片段中出現,足見其做為台北都會底層生活場景的一般性。

或許,這樣的上架大工地經驗──1990年代台北都會機車與行走的交通身體經驗,可以用一個我和畫家共享的「鋼板道路機車滑行感」來集中描繪,這樣的描繪,跟陸先銘後來各種的不鏽鋼框架、陸橋捷運橋架造形有直接間接的關係。1990年代初期,我還在南陽街補習班教書的時候,有一個冬日下午,台北街頭微雨,我騎著野狼125機車,在常德街與公園路(今天的台大醫院捷運站)、當時的新公園入口(今日的二二八和平公園入口)交叉路口黃燈轉紅燈的剎那,試著在紅綠燈下煞車停下機車等紅綠燈未果,就在微雨微濕的捷運工地全鋼板路面,我的身體隨著野狼125機車一路側倒,在鋼板路面上滑向三十公尺外的紐澤西水泥擋牆。由於倒下去路面滑行的瞬間,叉路上三方面的汽機車均恰好處於停等的狀態,所以,只有我和我的機車像獨舞的芭蕾舞者般,衝出車陣,在吱吱吱的、孤獨而淒厲的摩擦聲中,獨自滑到機車前方保險桿直接撞著紐澤西水泥護牆,卡住不動為止。

陸先銘的繪畫裝置,給我的直觀感覺,恰似肉身卡在停不下來的傾倒機車上、在高速摩擦聲中無奈滑過都會的鋼板路面時,寫下來的連篇憂鬱文件。這些文件,涉及解嚴三十年來,台北縣市各個角落架起了工地與鷹架、陸橋與捷運高架之後,屬於那個世代、穿越那個世代的都市閒游者,現代化生活狀況之下的生活的畫家,在有如微服王子巡行越過大工地般的都會空間中,呈現為考現學──考掘現代生活經驗之學──眼底的都會風景。這些風景裡的主角,是那些迅速消失在上架後工地陰影裡的底層人物、工人、大型機具與流動攤車,是那些越來越被上架在框框中的流動標語、路樹與建物,是那些徘徊於台北都會空間中的藝術家同儕們。它們在陸先銘冷靜而善於捕捉細節的眼睛裡,留下了轉瞬即逝的強烈印象。

正是在如此冷洌的上架氛圍中,猶如馬內《奧林匹亞》(1863)賣身框架內的漠然視線、《處決馬克西米連諾皇帝》(1867)中的牆框架、《陽台》(1868)上的眺望欄干、《鐵路》(1872)中的柵欄框架、《女神遊樂廳》(1881-82)中的幻視反射框架,[4]在反對古典風景畫的虛假空間透視深度、反對古典繪畫忽略畫框與畫布的材質性、創造被阻絕與無法透視的表淺深度感這三個方面,陸先銘繪畫中的現代性核心,即是透過台北考現學中的框架特質,把上架中的台北都會,在系統秩序的追求中,剩下表淺深度環境中單單屬於原子個體的溫度,不論是無名的老人、工人、撿拾破爛的人或公園路樹,不論是舊物件或老攤車,都對比著用以建構都會秩序、加速流動和潔淨化的機具、鋼板、環快高架橋、捷運高架橋和種種的電子標語框架,在這種強烈的框架式對比中,一種強烈的「去背感」、「焦土感」中,一幅幅宛如人類世界的未來預言、科幻末世毀滅後的都會場景生成了,在這些場景中,陸先銘似乎永遠站在都市邊緣人、甚至站在路樹的位置上,定身思索、冷眼旁觀,偶而露出一抹輕笑,俯身端詳路上焦土殘餘的物件、細看隙縫與樹根邊冒出的新芽,像一位出身於美術圈的養成、了然於美術圈的潮流、但不拘於美術圈表現形式的陸上觀察家。

[1] 今和次郎著,藤森照信編,詹慕如、龔婉如譯,《考現學入門》。台北:行人文化實驗室,2018,頁9。

[2] 李維菁,〈冷靜與熱情之間〉,收於《陸先銘》,台北:大台北林舍畫廊,2014,頁14。

[3] 參見龔卓軍,〈叛徒的游牧:楊茂林的分裂修辭與反諷〉,收於《MADE IN TAIWAN:楊茂林回顧展》,台北:台北市立美術館,2016。陳莘,《偽青春顯相館:吳天章》,台北:田園城市,2013。

[4] Michel Foucault, La Peinture de Manet, Paris: Éditions de Minuit, 2004.

Taipei ElevatedModernology: Lu Hsien-Ming’s Urban Observation

Text / GONG Jow-Jiun, Associate Professor, Doctoral Program in Art Creation and Theory, TNNUA; Academic Chair of Exhibition :Modernology: Lu Hsien-Ming’s Urban Observation (Tainan)

We try to stand quietly on the soil of Tokyo at that time and perceive so many things happening now that worth our gaze at the same time. We, at least myself, managed to make a living, working as a house painter, and conducted some small-scale research projects, lingering on this scorched land every day. It was also around this period that I started feeling the joy of recording what I had seen and heard.

KON Wajiro, What is Modernology; February 1928

To think about Lu Hsien-Ming’s art through “modernology” is due to my understanding of “modernology” as both “the study of observations made through lingering on urban streets” and “an emerging study grown from a scorched land,” the combination of which represents how I feel about Lu’s painting and installation. The term “modernology” is closely associated with urban architecture and space. It originated from the Japanese society that underwent rapid modernization in the 1920s and fast reconstruction after the catastrophic 1923 Great Kanto Earthquake. Since Kon Wajiro shifted his focus from Yanagita Kunio’s studies of native ethnology and launched “modernology” to the subsequently developed idea and science of roadway observation conceived by Akasegawa Genpei, Minami Shinbo and Fujimori Terunobu, the study of modernology has always been related to the rebellious spirit of art.

To begin with the context of art and cultural history, Kon Wajiro studied graphic design at Tokyo Fine Arts School (now Tokyo University of the Arts) and graduated in 1912. Afterwards, he taught at the Department of Architecture at Waseda University, and later became a professor there. According to Fujimori’s description of Kon in “Elucidation: The Accurate Modernology” anthologized in An Introduction to Modernology edited by Fujimori, “[Kon] was good at finding and picking up objects that others would often overlook and miss.” After he grew up, Kon began to “pick up” thatched roof styles of people’s homes, so much that he later joined the Thatch Group directed by Yanagita and eventually organized the analytical ethnographic atlas, entitled Japanese Houses. Around the time that 1923 Great Kanto Earthquake struck, Kon finally shifted the focus of his study that had previously employed Yanagita’s ethnological methodology to objects and people observed on roadways in modern urban areas of the time. Eventually, he founded “modernology,” a study that came close to cultural sociology.

Three aesthetic or aesthesiologic characteristics can be deduced from Kon’s concept of modernology. Firstly, it is clear that modernology adopts a rebellious stand against mainstream culture. From Kon’s writing, readers can vividly detect his revolt against the Greater East-Asia War (the Pacific War) and all the heroic narratives that celebrate prominent historic figures. Secondly, Kon felt impatient toward the academic knowledge system regarding its widening distance from the folk society and people’s everyday life. Consequently, he was more willing and content in spending time at rural hot spring regions, recording varying forms of delicate tinplate gas lamp shades from local households. In other words, those strange materials excluded by modern art, from the viewpoint of modernology, seemed to have become expressionist decorative symbols similar to that in the German expressionist film, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Published in August 1923, shortly before the Great Kanto Earthquake, Kon’s essay, The Work of Tinplate Workers, can almost be viewed as a manifesto of modernology. Thirdly, although the city of Tokyo was almost destroyed and became a vast scorched land after the Great Kano Earthquake, Kon observed that “temporary houses after the disaster, built with iron, wood sticks and piles and other broken boards, revealed a resilient life force of the urban dwellers, along with intriguing forms; in particular, the hanging, freestanding signs at these temporary houses were like fresh sprouts that just shot out from the ash of the scorched land.”[1] Therefore, the post-disaster scenes observed on the urban roads and the commercial signs that sprang up like mushrooms collectively formed the genesis of modernology. This attitude is the reason why Fujimori Terunobu and others have developed the study of roadway observation as an approach to resist the popular trend of turning “modernology” into a symbol of commercial products in modern cities.

Lee Wei-Jing once described Lu’s urban observation of Taipei in the following words: “According to Lu Hsien-Ming, who used to be busy running about the streets of Taipei for livelihood, there were not many Mercedes-Benz cars on the road in 1989 and 1990. However, many could soon be seen in the streets in the early 1990s, and everywhere one passed by, there were on-going construction sites of bridges and houses, filling the city with construction noises all the time. Being on the streets, one realized that the city was changing at an incredible speed. Lu, therefore, wanted to record these changes he had witnessed himself. He took photographs of the construction sites of the peripheral expressway, the viaducts, Bingjian Street, Xinsheng Elevated Road, etc., and reconstructed these structures from different angles in his work. ‘I felt an impact so strong that I just wanted to record these changes with my painting.’”[2] Moreover, several art pioneers from the Hantoo Art Group, such as Yang Mao-Lin and Wu Tien-Chang, also developed their respective artistic vocabularies involving political collision, historical reflection, local symbolism and a rhetoric of disruption after the lifting of martial law in the 1990s.[3]

Contrary to this trend, however, Lu’s painting motif and vocabulary express a sense of calmness and rationality, refraining from directly engaging in the debate on “the subjectivity of Taiwanese art” as well as avoiding using the rhetoric of disruption for political argument, historical reflection as well as the deconstruction and reconstruction of local symbols. Instead, the artist’s motif was converted from an “elevated” urban space of Taipei that had undergone extensive construction in the 1980s—the elevated MRT bridges, the elevated peripheral expressway, the Xizhi-Wugu Viaduct, the scaffoldings of buildings, formulating a new contradictory rhetoric of elevation for contemporary easel painting. This contradictory framed rhetoric not only problematizes painting frame and canvas like that of Manet’s painting, but also transforms painting frame and canvas material into materials for expression. Lu even takes a step further by incorporating steel used for the framework of urban traffic systems into his painting and turns it into the stainless steel frame of his painting. His meticulous observation and refined visualization of the process of Taipei’s urban modernization are, in fact, informed by his passionate, rebellious spirit; at least, for traditional canvas painting, his approach serves as a powerful and determined response.

From a modernological point of view, people who tend to discuss “Taipei after the lifting of martial law” often neglect the “elevated” aspect of this city. However, the experience of the “traffic dark age” has become a vivid part of the memory possessed by two generations of Taipei residents and people who had worked or studied in Taipei during the period. The Taipei streets in Tsai Ming-Liang’s 1992 film, Rebels of the Neon God, as well as the construction site of Daan Forest Park and various places of on-going construction in Taipei encountered by the actors Chen Chao-Jung and Lee Kang-Sheng in Tsai’s 1994 film, Vive L’Amour, in fact, only reveal a tip of the city that was massively under construction in the 1990s. One can take a retrospective look and examine the modernizing Taipei that Lu has witnessed during his “scooter-riding” years in the 1990s. In July 1988, the construction of Taipei MRT Beitou Depot was officially launched, and the construction of six MRT routes, including the Muzha Line, the Tamsui Line, the Xindian Line, the Banqiao Line, the Nangang Line and the Zhonghe Line, were commenced at the same time, which was a major milestone known as “the concurrent launch of six MRT lines.” Back then, multiple traffic artery roads in Taipei, such as Zhongxiao East Road, Fuxing South Road, Gongyuan Road, Roosevelt Road, Heping East and West Roads, Wenhua Road in Banqiao District, all underwent a traffic dark age. It was not until 1996 to 2000 when the initial traffic network was completed and the construction fences measured 68 kilometers were removed did the roads become fully visible and available. If one takes into consideration Taipei MRT’s expansion and the second-stage traffic network construction, they have helped bring the traffic network to a total of 75.8 kilometers when the Neihu Line and the Xinlu Line were competed and integrated into the network in 2012.

Around the same period, the construction of Xizhi-Wugu Viaduct, also publicly known as the 18th Bidding Project, was launched in 1991. The viaduct, 20.3 kilometers in total, was inaugurated in 1997. It runs through the Neihu District, Jiuzong Road and Tiding Boulevard while connecting with the busy traffic artery roads, such as Tayou Road, Binjiang Street, and the Northbound Lane of Huanhe North Interchange. Throughout the entire viaduct, it is all elevated four-lane or six-lane road. In June 1998, the construction of Huanhe Expressway in New Taipei City began. It runs along Tamsui River, the west bank of Xindian River and connects with New Taipei Bridge that crosses the Erchong Floodway as well as Zhongcui Bridge that links Sanchong District and Banqiao District before leading to Taipei’s satellite districts, including Zhonghe, Yonghe and Xindian. The expressway, measured 21.8 kilometers in total, was finally completed in January 2013. One can imagine that the artist, in his relatively youthful years, would first depart from Xinyi District that was still being developed at the time and rode his scooter across Yongfu Bridge or Fuhe Bridge to teach at Fu-Hsin Arts and Trade School for several years. Afterwards, in the early 1990s, he and Wu Tien-Chang rented a studio together in Zhonghe, which became a base for him as he began commuting between Taipei City and Taipei County connected by Zhongzheng Bridge. Although these extensive construction sites could not even begin to match Japan’s massive urban reconstruction after the Great Kanto Earthquake, the Taipei urban area in 1990s, as a mega construction site of infrastructure systems, has been frequently featured in the background of various movies and plays (i.e. the 1993 version of The Night We Became Hsiang-Sheng Comedians), which validates its commonality in representing the everyday life of the lower social stratum in Taipei.

Perhaps, this experience of being surrounded by such a mega construction site – the traffic and body experience of riding a scooter or walking through Taipei City in the 1990s – could be illustrated by “the slipperiness of roads covered with steel plates” experienced by both the artist and myself, an experience that has been directly and indirectly associated with Lu’s use of various forms of stainless steel frames as well as MRT bridge and road bridge frameworks in his work. In the early 1990s, I was still teaching at cram schools on Nanyang Street. One winter afternoon, I was riding my classic SYM Wolf 125 in the drizzling Taipei City. Upon reaching the intersection of Changde Street and Gongyuan Road (today’s MRT NTU Hospital Station) and the entrance of Taipei New Park (now the 228 Peace Memorial Park), the yellow light was just about to turn red. I hit the brake of my motorcycle before passing the traffic light, and unfortunately failed to stop. As a result, my Wolf 125 with me sitting on it slipped on the wet, slippery steel-plate covered road surface above the MRT underground construction site, and consequently skidded onward for about thirty meters on the metal plates until it was stopped by the Jersey barriers. Because it was the red light when I fell and all the traffic had actually stopped at the intersection, the only motion, and commotion for that matter, at the moment was me on my motorcycle, like that of a ballet dancer performing a solo dance, that dashed forward through the traffic and let out a monotonous, horrifying screech until the final bang of the motorcycle’s front crashing into the concrete barriers.

My intuitive impression on Lu’s painting installations is that they are like documents informed by a sense of melancholy similar to the helpless feeling when my body was stuck on the motorcycle slipping across the urban street surface covered with steel plate while making a screeching noise. This body of works addresses the period of three decades after the lifting of martial law, during which construction sites, scaffoldings, bridges and viaducts started appearing in different corners of Taipei City and Taipei County; they belong to urban flâneurs who have lived in and through that era. Lu, as a painter immersed in modern living condition, is like a prince in disguise making rounds in the urban space resembling a mega construction site, and reveals an urbanscape of modernology—the study of modern living experiences. The primary figures in this urbanscape are the crowd, laborers, large machineries and street vendors that have rapidly vanished under the shadow of construction sites as parts of the city are being “elevated”; they also include the movable signs, street trees and buildings being “elevated” as depicted subject matters to be framed in paintings; and they are certainly the artist’s peers who have been lingering in the urban space of Taipei. All these have been captured by Lu’s calm and detail-capturing eyes, and have left a transient yet powerful impression.

The cold atmosphere of the “elevated, framed and fenced” city is reminiscent of the indifferent eyes of the prostitute enslaved girl in Manet’s Olympia (1863), the framing wall in The Execution of Emperor Maximilian (1867), the banisters from the vantage point in The Balcony (1868), the fences in The Railway (1872) and the framed mirror reflection in A Bar at the Folies-Bergère (1881-82).[4] In three ways – resisting the fictitious perspective in classical landscape painting to create a sense of depth, refusing the disregard of the materiality of painting frame and canvas in classical painting, and creating a superficial depth that seemed obstructed and lack of perspective – one can conclude that the core modern quality of Lu’s painting is to employ frameworks, a major quality in Taipei’s modernology, to foreground the sense of warmth of individual existences in the surface of the environment amidst the pursuit of systematic order in the “elevated” city of Taipei. These individual existences, be it nameless elders, manual laborers, scavengers, trees in parks, time-honored objects or worn-out street vending carts are contrasted to elements used to construct the urban order, to increase mobility and to improve cleanliness, whether they are machines, steel plates, viaducts and expressways, MRT bridges or different electronic text display signs in frames. Through this intense, framed contrast, a strong sense of “backgroundless-ness” and “desertedness” is highlighted, likening Lu’s paintings to revelations of the future world or apocalyptic urban scenes in a sci-fi doomsday. Nevertheless, the artist always seems to be standing on the edge of the city amidst these scenarios or taking the position of a street tree, in which he calmly contemplates and rationally observes, occasionally showing a subtle smile, as he lowers his eyes to examine objects left on the scorched soil of roads or carefully check fresh shoots budding from crevices and old roots—an urban observer who has formal art training, understands trends in the art scene but never limits himself to accepted expressions and forms in the art world.

[1]  Introduction to Modernology (Kogengaku Nyumon) Kon, Warjio. An Introduction to Modernology. Ed. Terunobu Fujimori. Trans. Chan Mu-Ju and Kung Wang-Ju. Taipei: Flaneur Culture Lab, 2018.

[2] Lee, Wei-Jing. Between Calm and Passion. Lu Hsien-Ming. Taipei: Lin & Lin Gallery, 2014.

[3] Gong, Jow-Juin. “Nomadology of a Rebel: Yang Mao-Lin’s Splitting Rhetoric and Irony.” MADE IN TAIWAN: A Retrospective of Yang Mao-Lin. Taipei: Taipei Fine Arts Museum, 2016. Chen, Hsin. Studio of Pseudo Photography: Wu Tien-Chang. Taipei: Garden City Publishers, 2013.

[4] Foucault, Michel. La Peinture de Manet. Paris: Éditions de Minuit, 2004.